


Ghost of a Good Thing

by kjack89



Series: High School AU [1]
Category: Les Misérables - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - High School, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Briefly NSFW, Bruises, Developing Relationship, Friends With Benefits, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, M/M, Past Underage
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-07-25
Updated: 2014-07-25
Packaged: 2018-02-10 09:44:25
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,071
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2020344
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kjack89/pseuds/kjack89
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Enjolras and Grantaire's friends with benefits relationship takes on a different meaning when they're caught in the janitor's closet at school.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Ghost of a Good Thing

**Author's Note:**

> The very beginning is NSFW, and while both Enjolras and Grantaire are of legal age where I am from (at least 17), slight warning for underage if it squicks you out.
> 
> I published the first part of this AU on [my tumblr](http://kjack89.tumblr.com) almost eleven months ago, so each of the (thus far) four parts varies a lot in terms of substance and style, and I apologize preemptively for that.
> 
> Usual disclaimer. Please be kind and tip your fanfic writers in the form of comments and/or kudos!

"Fuck, R," Enjolras growled as Grantaire palmed him through his jeans. Grantaire laughed and kissed his neck, biting down just slightly. "Tell me you don’t have to go back to class soon."

"Nah, I’ve got gym," Grantaire said, his mouth moving against Enjolras’s neck in a way that made Enjolras throw his head back and groan. "I told the teacher I had period cramps."

Enjolras growled again and pushed Grantaire away, holding him at arm’s length. “You know, when we pushed the administration for gender equivalent treatment it was not so males could abuse the policy that excuses people with vaginas from participating in gym class when they are suffering from menstrual cramps.”

Grantaire grinned. “True, but are you really complaining? Because, uh—” he palmed Enjolras again, grinning even wider when Enjolras bit back a moan “—I really don’t think you are.”

Enjolras’s pupils were blown so wide that Grantaire could barely see their steely blue as Enjolras shoved him against the wall and kissed him hungrily. Grantaire laughed breathily. “Aren’t you supposed to be in class?”

"I’ve got study hall," Enjolras snapped, hands fumbling with the button on Grantaire’s pants. "Shouldn’t you be putting your mouth to better use?"

Grantaire’s eyes widened. “Yes sir,” he said, practically purring as his hands rucked Enjolras’s shirt up, pulling it over Enjolras’s head and tossing it aside before leaning in and biting down on Enjolras’s collarbone.

Enjolras hissed at the scrape of Grantaire’s teeth and caught Grantaire’s lips with his own. Then he dropped to his knees, tugging Grantaire’s jeans and boxers down from his hips to halfway down his thighs, trapping them. Grantaire moaned obscenely as Enjolras swallowed him down.

This was not the first time they had done this. Enjolras and Grantaire had been at odds through most of their high school years until last year, when Combeferre, tired of their constant bickering, locked them in the janitor’s closet during their social justice club meeting and told them not to come out until they could speak civilly to each other. Enjolras had sulked, and when Grantaire tried to make conversation, had snapped, “Blow me.”

Grantaire’s eyes had darkened and he had said, “Ok, I will.” The next thing Enjolras had known, Grantaire was kissing him, and, perhaps most unexpectedly, Enjolras kissed him back. True to his word, Grantaire had given Enjolras his first blow job, and they had emerged from the janitor’s closet a little disheveled but at least cordial with each other.

The pattern had continued, Enjolras dragging Grantaire into the janitor’s closet or any other deserted area when the need overtook him. They weren’t dating. They weren’t really even friends. Grantaire was still an obnoxious, smug asshole keen on interrupting Enjolras whenever he could, and Enjolras was as distant and cold as ever. And yet, somehow, the slightly diffused sexual tension stopped them from killing each other, and their friends were careful not to ask too many questions for fear of going back to earlier days.

And now, here they were, Grantaire’s cock halfway down Enjolras’s throat as if it was the most natural thing in the world, which, given the way Grantaire groaned and ran his fingers through Enjolras’s hair and Enjolras responded by running his tongue down the vein on the underside of Grantaire’s cock, it almost was.

“Fuck, Enjolras,” Grantaire moaned as Enjolras hollowed his cheeks and sucked. “Jesus fuck, Enj—” The door to the janitor’s closet burst open and Grantaire yelped, “Fuck, fuck fuck, Enj,” practically hitting him around the head.

Dean Javert stood framed in the doorway, eyes practically bugging out of his head at the sight before him. Enjolras unfroze before Grantaire, who was still staring at Javert, petrified. Quickly and with deft fingers, Enjolras tucked Grantaire’s rapidly softening cock back into his boxers and tugged his jeans up for him, even going so far as to zip and button them before standing and facing Javert, stating coolly, “Good afternoon, Dean Javert.”

Javert’s faced darkened. “Valjean’s office. Now,” he barked, stepping back to let both boys file in front of him.

As they walked down the hall, Enjolras almost unconsciously reached for Grantaire’s hand, surprised when he jerked it away. Enjolras glanced over at him, taking in his white face, wide eyes, and the nervous twitch in his jaw. “You alright?” he whispered.

“Peachy,” Grantaire answered, eyes staring straight ahead.

It was the last thing they got to say to each other before reaching Principal Valjean’s office. From there it was a whirlwind of questions and accusations, both their parents being called. Enjolras was given in-school suspension for two weeks and was stripped of his captaincy of the debate team, news which he took in quiet defiance. Grantaire was not so lucky, having already received in-school suspension for a variety of alcohol-related offenses; he received two weeks out-of-school suspension, which he blanched at (something Enjolras found curious given how fervently Grantaire seemed to not give a shit about school).

They were sent home immediately, both following their respective parents out. Grantaire looked quiet and subdued, and Enjolras would have something except for his own mother glaring at him as if daring him to speak.

Enjolras’s parents were very quiet on the way home. When they pulled into the driveway, his dad turned to him and said sternly, “It’s not that we’re angry. We’re just…”

“Disappointed,” his mom supplied. “We raised you better than this.” She exchanged a look with his dad and said firmly, “You’re grounded. Until further notice. We’ll discuss further punishment and let you know.”

Enjolras nodded, feeling like he had gotten off easy. As he was about to leave the car, his dad’s voice stopped him. “We thought…” Enjolras glanced back, and his dad was blushing slightly. “We always thought it would be Combeferre.”

Enjolras almost laughed. “Combeferre’s straight, Dad,” he told him before heading up to his room.

* * *

 

Enjolras’s parents decided that his further punishment was no internet access for a week, which was a lot more painful than it sounded. Enjolras was actually forced to watch the local news, and almost pulled his hair out over the thirty seconds of coverage given to Gaza. His fingers twitched from wanting to be scrolling through his Twitter feed on his phone (confiscated until he was to go to school the next day - Enjolras had only managed to text everyone to let them know he wouldn’t be able to be reached for the time being).

Once the news was over, he headed upstairs, ready to tackle his homework and call it an early night, since without his phone or internet access he had literally nothing to stay up and do. Halfway through his trig homework, though, he was interrupted by a tentative tap at his window. He looked over, surprised to see Grantaire outside his window. “Grantaire,” Enjolras hissed, wrenching the window open. “What are you doing here? My parents grounded me, and if they caught you, they’d kill you.”

Grantaire tumbled in through the window, avoiding Enjolras’s eyes. “Well, funny story about that, Apollo,” he said hollowly, finally looking up at Enjolras. “My parents already tried.”

Enjolras winced at the black eye blooming across Grantaire’s face. “Oh my God,” he whispered, reaching out with trembling fingers before thinking better of it. “Fuck, Grantaire. Your dad?”

“Yeah,” Grantaire said softly. “Though my mom didn’t exactly discourage him. She was the one who told me that as long as I’m a ‘fag’, I’m not welcome in their house.”

“Grantaire,” Enjolras whispered, his heart breaking for him, reaching out to pull him into a hug, surprised when Grantaire yelped slightly. “Grantaire?”

Grantaire pulled away. “I…it’s nothing,” he said quickly, but Enjolras had already reached out to tug his shirt up, revealing the black and blue welt marks that marred his back.

“Grantaire,” Enjolras breathed, almost brought to tears by the severity of the marks (and the scars he thought he saw under them from other, similar welts).

Shoving his shirt down, Grantaire turned away. “It’s fine,” he said, almost more to himself than to Enjolras. “I’ll give them a few days to cool down. Eponine’s always let me sleep on her couch when this happens—”

Enjolras reached out to touch Grantaire’s arm gently. “This has happened before?”

Grantaire’s eyes snapped up to meet his and he snorted. “Not all of us have the perfect home with the perfect parents. Your punishment was being grounded. I’m just glad my punishment wasn't worse.”

“You don’t have to go back there,” Enjolras said automatically.

Raising an eyebrow, Grantaire snorted again. “I’m legally an adult. It’s not like you can call DCFS on my parents. So what am I going to do, stay with you?”

Enjolras frowned. “Yeah, that’s exactly what you’ll do. My parents won’t mind, not if we explain the situation to them. You’ll never have to go back there.”

“Don’t do this, Enjolras,” Grantaire said, his voice quiet and shaking slightly. “Don’t…don’t make promises like this. Not when you’ll never be able to keep them.”

“Grantaire—” Enjolras started, reaching out, but Grantaire shook his arm out of Enjolras’s grip.

“I said  _don’t_ ,” Grantaire snapped. “Don’t do this, don’t look at me like that. You don’t even  _like_  me, we’re not even  _friends_ , so just stop. Stop pretending like you give a fuck when I know for a fact that you don’t.” He paused and took a deep, if shaky, breath. “You don’t have to pretend. I will be fine. I always am.”

Enjolras grabbed his arm again, tightening his grip so that Grantaire couldn’t shake out of it. “Except that you’re not fine,” he said, his voice soft but firm. “And I’m  _not_  pretending.”

Grantaire’s eyes flickered to his and then looked away and he shook his head slightly, but Enjolras continued. “Look, I can’t begin to explain what we’ve been doing these past few months, but if you think that I don’t care about you, you’re sorely mistaken.”

There was a long moment of silence before Grantaire turned to look at him, eyes completely conflicted, and Enjolras wondered for just a moment when the last time was that someone had demonstrated to Grantaire that they cared about him, truly. And so he leaned in and kissed him.

It was not the hungry, fierce kisses they normally traded in their few minutes alone. It was soft and it was gentle, and filled with everything that Enjolras wanted to say but somehow couldn’t find the words to properly convey. After a moment, Grantaire kissed him back, relaxing against him, allowing Enjolras’s arms to gently encircle him. When they broke apart, Grantaire asked, almost shyly, “So what does this mean…?”

“For the moment, this means that you’re not going anywhere tonight,” Enjolras said firmly. “As for what else this means…well, we can figure that out tomorrow. For now, let’s try and get some sleep.”

He stood, holding his hand out to Grantaire, who only hesitated for a moment before putting his hand in Enjolras’s and allowing himself to be pulled to his feet. He followed Enjolras over to his bed, and again hesitated for just a second before crawling under the covers, kicking his shoes off. Even though Enjolras wasn’t wearing his pajamas, he crawled in after Grantaire and pulled him into his arms. “Enjolras?” Grantaire asked after a long moment, trying not to think about how perfect it felt to be tucked against Enjolras, neatly slotted against his body.

“Mmm?” Enjolras asked, his voice muffled against Grantaire’s curls.

Grantaire hesitated, then chickened out on whatever he was about to say. “Thank you,” he said instead. “For everything.”

Enjolras leaned down and kissed him, softly. “You’re welcome. And I mean it - we will figure everything out. But for now - go to sleep, Grantaire. You’re safe. I promise.”

Nodding, Grantaire closed his eyes and burrowed even closer against Enjolras, falling asleep far quicker than he ever had before. Enjolras felt him drift off and pressed another kiss to the top of his head, his eyes fierce as he blinked back tears. They had a lot of work to do, a lot of things to work out, but he had made a promise, and Enjolras did not abandon his promises lightly.

But in the meantime, he tightened his arms around Grantaire as much as he dared and rested his head against him, drifting off to sleep, determined to keep Grantaire as safe as he could.


End file.
